Sweeney's Opportunity
by JDeppIsMyLovely
Summary: Mrs. Lovett finds Edward Scissorhands on the street and decides to take him home, but with revenge on his mind, will Sweeney have a different plan for this new arrival?
1. Edward's New Beginning

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sweeney Todd or Edward Scissorhands. Which makes me sad but what are ya gonna do? P.S. This is my first story ever!**

**Enjoy! :)**

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><p><strong><span>Chapter 1:<span> Edward's New Beginning**

It was a bleak day in London (but then again, when _wasn't _it?) as Mrs. Lovett busied herself with her Sunday chores; sweeping and scrubbing the floors, washing dishes, hiding the gin from Toby, and disposing the results of Mr. Todd's shiny "friends".

After completing her weekly duties, she changed into her favorite Sunday dress, a deep blood red with black lace trim at the low-cut neckline and bottom of the skirt.

_Hopefully_ she thought as she looked at her reflection in her bedroom mirror _he'll like this dress, seeing as 'e 'as a fondness for the colour._ Nellie left her room and called Toby as she descended the stairs and entered the pie shop below. He bounced out of his room with a cheery "yes mum?"

Toby always wanted to make her happy, especially since _he _made her so sad all the time.

"Would y'like to go to the market with me today love?" she asked with a bright smile.

"Of course mum!" he said with a smile as bright as the sun. Mrs. Lovett knew what he really wanted was some gin, but she was not going to let him out of her sight for one second. Primarily because you don't know what to expect in the dangerous streets of London; but the gin was definitely another instinctive not to let him leave her side.

"Alright, well I'm going to pop up to Mr. T's room and tell 'im we're 'eading to the market."

"Ok." The boy's face darkened as he heard the happiness in her voice when referring to that…monster that resided above his beloved pie maker. Nell bounced up the stairs to his shop, wondering if she should invite him. She had seen the boys face fall into an emotion that definitely wasn't happiness with the mention of him and decided against the idea. She reached the top of the steps and knocked on his door.

"Mr. T?" she called as she opened the door and saw him standing by the window staring at it (but never through it) in a trance.

"Me and Toby are going out for a bit so please don't do anything while we're out, eh love?" she really would not want to come home and find anybody to cook; today was, after all, her day off.

"Mmm." he grunted, not even taking the time to acknowledge her properly.

"Well, see ya Mr. T" she said, and walking out of his dark hidey-hole and closing the door behind her. Toby was waiting at the foot of the stairs with a slightly anxious look on his face; he did not like how Mr. Todd would upset his new mum so often. Mrs. Lovett walked down the stairs toward her "son" who started to smile again, seeing his mum descending the stairs unaccompanied by the monstrous creature he had come to fear and resent.

"Alright love, lets go!" Nellie said with a wide smile, she was glad to be spending the day with her favorite person (who acknowledges her when she speaks) even if she spends every Sunday with him, the effect it has on her happiness doesn't lessen with time.

As Mrs. Lovett and Toby walked through the market looking for fruit and other items for the shop (she wanted to expand her pies to include fruit) when Toby tugged on her arm, trying to lead her away from the wooden crates of cherries and strawberries she was eyeing (fruit tarts always look so pretty when baked correctly she thought).

"Goodness Toby! What is it?" she asked curiously and slightly annoyed, seeing as she was about to bargain with the fruit vendor about the price of a basket of cherries.

"Look at that man! He's so cool!" Toby says, jumping up and pointing at a large crowd circling what she thought was a magician or other street entertainer.

"Yes that's nice dear but I'm in the middle of something right now," she said, sounding like the mother she thinks herself to be.

"Oh come on mum! You didn't even look!" Toby semi-whined. He was tugging on her arm, trying to lead her away from the fruit and towards the man encircled by spectators.

"Fine love, I'll take a quick peek then we'll go home." Mrs. Lovett said, giving in and letting Toby drag her to a gap in the crowd.

"See mum? The man on the right, isn't he cool?" Toby said excitedly. Nellie gasped as she directed her attention from the man in the top hat who was rather good looking in her opinion, to the man next to him. He was tall, pale and lanky, dressed in a peculiar tight leather suit with multiple belts as if without them, he would simply fall apart. But what were so remarkable about the man were his hands; or _razors_ would be more accurate. He was holding his "hands" in front of him like a puppy on its hind legs would, moving his bladed fingers nervously, making a _snip snip snip _sound like scissors. His hands did however, have two humanlike characteristics about them. One: each shining, elongated, silver blade was proportionate to regular fingers, meaning the middle one was the longest and the pinkie was the shortest; not to mention he had opposable thumbs too. The second characteristic was the number of appendages he had, which was the usual five.

She followed the razors up towards his wrists, which were also covered in black leather. Just before his wrists were metal plates that covered the backs of his hands and had a bent metal rod connecting those plates to a leather strap on his forearm. She continued to move her astonished gaze upward until she reached his face.

The look his face held as he looked at the crowd of people he did not know made Mrs. Lovett's heart break. She read his face like a book; the poor man was nervous, overwhelmed and most of all, afraid. Afraid of the man next to him shouting

"Yes sir! He is a genuine, 100 % freak of nature! These aren't gloves folks, they're his _hands_! Cant find another one like 'im anywhere!" and this made Nellie's blood boil; the hurtful and destructive things people will do for money. It was ridiculous.

And she had no plan to let it continue.

"'Scuse me! 'scuse me!" she repeated as she made her way through the throng of people towards the platform the man with the scissors was standing on, leaving Toby behind to continue stare awestruck at this display of cruelty he found interesting. When she reached the man with the top hat, she straight up told him what she thought.

"You sir, are a cruel, 'eartless individual who 'as no concern for anyone's feelings other than your own." Nellie pointed out to the gentleman, loud enough for the crowd around her to hear "And I am taking your _friend _with _me." _With that said, she turned on her heels to face the pale man on her right.

"You're coming with me alright, sweet'eart?" she gave him her biggest, most encouraging smile and grab his wrist, pulling him through the crowd.

"C'mon Toby! We're leaving!" she called as she approached her adopted son. She grabbed his hand and dragged him away from the group of confused people and an extremely angry street entertainer who could not get through the mass of his admirers to get to his source of income before the woman and child disappeared. It was a ten minute walk from the market to their home on Fleet Street and nobody said a word. Toby was probably in shock from her rash actions (she is surprised he isn't used to them by now) and the man she was dragging beside her seemed like the quiet type in general. When they walked through the door to the shop, she broke the long silence.

"Just have a seat there dearie and I'll get you a nice 'ot meat pie." Nell said pointing to the empty chair Sweeney had been pushed into the first day he walked into her shop. She sent Toby to fetch the pie while the man sat down, looking around the room with an air of nervousness surrounding him.

"What's your name love?" Mrs. Lovett asked him, noticing his uncomfortableness heightening as she spoke; raising his bowed head slightly and glancing up at her, eyes glistening with fear.

"Edward" he mumbled simply. He had an American accent so wherever he was originally from; he was definitely far from it now.

"That's a lovely name Edward," Mrs. Lovett told him, running her pointer finger around the rim of an empty glass on the kitchen counter.

"Thank you" Edward spoke again softly

"You're very welcome! So where you from?" she asked, letting her curiosity get the best of her.

"A castle" he answered a little louder this time; he seemed to be snipping his razors a lot less and Nellie took this as a sign he was warming up to her.

"Oh I love castles! But I've always dreamt of a home by the sea…" She said, putting her chin in her hand as she started to daydream of a life beyond baking people into pies. About five more minutes had passed before Toby walked back into the room with the meat pie; which Toby placed in front of Edward, and a half empty bottle of gin under his shirt.

"What is that you've got under your shirt dear?" Nell asked Toby when she awoke from her daydream and spotted the poorly concealed bottle beneath his tunic.

"Um, nothing mum." Toby replied, blushing as he tried to hide the bottle behind him with no luck; she reached out and snatched it right as he turned to leave.

"Ah ha!" she exclaimed; not hiding the pride she had ruining his attempt to get more gin past her, despite how weak it was compared to his usual standards of stealth "Nothing eh? Then what's this?" Mrs. Lovett asked. She was holding the bottle by the very top of its neck between her thumb and index finger, swaying it side to side, causing the potent liquid to slosh around inside.

"I just wanted a glass or two…." Toby answered while rocking back and forth on his heels without looking at Mrs. Lovett.

"Well I suppose a glass or two wouldn't hurt…" Nellie said as she walked over to the cabinet and took out three glass tumblers. "Would ya like some gin Edward?" uncorking the bottle and pouring its clear contents into the glasses.

"Ok…." he replied hesitantly; clearly, he did not know what gin was and had obviously never had any. She placed the glass on the table and glanced at his pie; untouched and still steaming slightly. Before Nellie could even complete her thought on how to ask Edward about the uneaten pie, Mr. Todd angrily opened the door to the shop.

"What the bloody hell-" Sweeney cut himself off; feeling a foreign, unfamiliar presence in the pie shop. He moved his dark eyes from his Landlady to the man sitting at the table. His large mop of untidy black hair looked like it had been neat once but now looked as if the man had run his hand through it too many times contrasted with his _very _pale face.

"Mr. T this is Edward, Edward that's Sweeney Todd." Mr. Lovett said, grabbing Sweeney's wrist and pulling him closer to where Edward was sitting.

He was only 3 feet away when he saw them.

They were beautiful, shiny blades that could probably spill the rubies of any man just as well as his own razors. He was staring at them, mesmerized by all of it; a man with razors, no. Not razors. _scissors _for hands. Oh, all of the glorious, precious rubies those hands could spill.

He shuttered with pleasure at the disturbing thought.

"Say 'ello to 'im Mr. T." Mrs. Lovett told him when she saw him staring at his hands; she should have thought about bringing Edward home through.

"Hi…" Sweeney exhaled quietly, still occupied with the poor mans hands.

"Well now that we are all acquainted with one another, lets get you settled in Edward dear" Nellie said, again grabbing Edwards wrist and leading him to the spare bedroom, leaving Toby and Mr. Todd alone.

"I guess he's going to be living with us now, huh Mr. Todd?" Toby said, breaking the silence that had walked in as Mrs. Lovett walked out.

"Yes, it seems so…" Sweeney replied, lost in thought.

That's when he saw it.

His new and interesting_...opportunity._

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><p><strong>AN: OMG! What is this opportunity Sweeney is talking about? I knowww! And you will too if you fav and follow! I will have the next chapter up as soon as I..well, write it. I'll write faster if you review so please do! :) Especially about the description of Edwards hands...it was really bloody difficult! XD Thanks for reading! **


	2. The Suggestion

**I'm REALLY sorry it took me a month to write this! It was a combination of homework aka final reviews and such, sleepiness and some writers block (not Mort Rainey level of writers block, but still enough to delay my chapter). **

**So here's the next installment of Sweeney's Opportunity!**

**Have fun reading this :) P.S. Sweeney is a llliittlleeee out of character in the middle just so you know...**

**And I still don't own any of the awesomeness that IS Sweeney Todd and Edward Scissorhands, just in case you thought I might have obtained thoes rights; I haven't.**

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><p><strong><span>Chapter 2:<span> The Suggestion**

A week.

That's how long it took for Sweeney to concoct his new plan. After all, he was never one to miss an opportunity when it presented itself in such a perfect way. He didn't know much about Edward, except that he didn't talk much which suited Sweeney; he thought talking unnecessarily was a waste of energy.

Energy he could be using to get to put his new plan into action. The plan he could use to ultimately get to what he wanted most.

The Judge.

Edward was fitting into the little family quite nicely; a family of eccentrics is what Edward surely needed. A family of people who can understand what it feels like to be shunned, ignored and even hated by society.

He helped Mrs. Lovett with her meat pies, cutting up onions, potatoes and other veggies that were available at the local market. He got along swimmingly with Toby and better-than- most with Mr. Todd. Although what Edward took as acceptance from Mr. T was really awe and joy: for Sweeney was basking in his own personal paradise.

His plan was advancing; gaining momentum and velocity towards his revenge-soaked goal.

Since it was again Sunday, everybody had the day off from their usual daytime duties and switched to their keeping-up-with-the-household chores. Toby swept the shop, Mrs. Lovett washed dishes and Edward was in Sweeney's shop getting his scissors sharpened. After the dishes were sparkling and put away she sat her weary bones in an armchair with a tumbler of gin and thought. Thought about Sweeney and his strange mood, almost like he was…happy. But no. he's not happy, he's Sweeney Todd! The man with only revenge and pain to fill his scarred or possibly nonexistent, heart. But you can't deny what's there, and what is there is an almost positive emotion someone less scarred and less angry feels…not Sweeney. She didn't have to wait too long for the answer however, because later that day when she brought up a tray with dinner for Mr. Todd she opened the door, only to find his room empty.

"Mr. T?" Mrs. Lovett called, stepping through the threshold. "Where are you 'iding, love?"

Nellie deposited the tray in its usual spot on his trunk, walked over to his barber chair and sat down. _He's probably just gone for a walk in the dark…_ She thought as she ran her finger up and down the armrest. When she reached the tip of the artfully crafted, leather clad piece of wood, it sank. The floorboard in the far right corner of the room was lifted to reveal a hidden compartment. Nellie gasped and sat in a momentary stunned silence before slowly rising from the beautiful barber chair and walking towards the raised board. She knelt down in front of the now empty space where the worn down strip of wood used to be and peered into the darkness, expecting to find some gruesome souvenir from his victims or something of the sort. What she didn't expect to find was a journal; 100 pages or so, leather bound, clasp locked tight and the key's whereabouts unknown.

"Oh my…" Mrs. Lovett breathed.

_Mr. Todd's journal…all his thoughts and feelings locked up in this diary just as well as they are in his head. Should I open it? That would be invading his privacy, but I _am _baking people into bloody meat pies so I deserve to know what he thinks. _

She stood, notebook in hand, and walked over to the desk where he kept his barbering effects. After rummaging through all the drawers and scanning the desk she found nothing even resembling a key.

_He must keep the key on his person; he's quite the paranoid individual. _

Nellie thought, bringing her hands to her hips and painting a grimace across her face. But before long, resourceful Nellie reared her head and whispered an idea: if you can't find the key, use a bobby pin. She thought about it and decided it wouldn't hurt so she reached into her hair and pulled out one of the many pins she used to manage her red curls and began to pick the clasp that guarded her love's thoughts. After 10 minutes of effort she abandoned the attempt, sticking the pin back into her hair and picked up the picture of Lucy and Johanna she knocked over in her frenzied search.

_What did she see in her that was so special, so riveting? She was a delicate little daisy with a horribly angelic personality. That must be why he refers to her as his angel. His angel with yellow hair._

As she continues to affront Lucy in her thoughts, she felt an odd shaped bulge in the back of the picture frame; a _key _shaped bulge. Mrs. Lovett turned the frame around and removed the back to find a silver key, slightly tarnished yet still glimmering like his faithful friends.

_Yes! This is the key! It _has _to be! _She thought, seizing the key and inserting it into the journals lock. The clasp responded with a satisfying _click _and spat out the leather strap; with its half circle, metal tip that helped secure the secret thoughts of Mr. Sweeney Todd. Nellie opened the cover with a hand shaking with excitement; she can finally see what he's thinking. His true, uncensored thoughts not hidden in his head but written down on paper, final and unchanging. Her eyes found his first entry starting the day she brought Edward home:

_Sunday, April 10th__, 1846_

_Dear Diary._

_Today, Eleanor brought home a man named Edward. He's very pale and wears a tight leather suit with numerous belts and buckles. He's very strange and hardly says a word! But the best part by far is the man's hands; instead of fingers he has scissors that glisten like my beautiful friends, and I've got a plan. I might like this one…_

_Truly Yours,_

_Sweeney Todd_

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><p><em>Monday, April 11<em>_th__, 1846_

_Dear Diary, _

_This morning Eleanor gave Edward some of my old clothes she found in a trunk up in my shop to wear. She said he looked lovely but I still think I look better in those clothes than he does; I can tell she thought that but. She didn't say anything…she's _**so**_ in love with me, it's ridiculous Diary! _

_This Afternoon he snipped the suspenders he was wearing in half! MY suspenders! They were my second favorite too…she mended them with safety pins though they wont ever be the same. Ever. But enough whining about suspenders Diary, I have more important things to attend to._

_P.S. It doesn't have anything to do with the judge. My razors just need a good polish, that's all…I swear!_

_Sincerely, _

_Sweeney Todd _

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><p><em>Tuesday, April 12<em>_th__, 1846_

_Dear Diary,_

_I haven't talked to Eleanor about my plan yet, but I will soon! I promise! I've just been a bit…preoccupied lately. Yes, it's true; I've been staring out the window and thinking about the judge. Please don't appraise me Diary, I know it's not healthy to think about that disgusting excuse of a human all the time, but I can't help it! It just _happens _and I can't make it stop; the nightmare just gets worse everyday. I need something to take my mind off of him at times, but what? I don't know…I'll keep you updated my love._

_The Keeper of a Dead Man's Secret,_

_Sweeney Todd_

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><p><em>Wednesday, April 13<em>_th__, 1846_

_Dear Diary,_

_I smiled today! It wasn't a really big one, but it was there! I think Eleanor knows I've got a new idea, she just doesn't know what it is though. Ok, back to why I smiled: I went down to the shop for some gin (I ran out of my personal secret stash yesterday) Edward and the boy were cutting up something, I didn't really bother seeing what it was considering I really don't care, then I walked over to the cabinet where Eleanor keeps the liquid that keeps my head straight; if I don't drink too much that is. I opened the cabinet door and took two bottles, closed it then turned to walk back to my shop when I glance over at the two misfits chopping away on their cutting boards when the boy yelped, dropped his knife and jerked his hand towards his body and exclaimed: "you nearly cut my finger off!" Wouldn't that have been great Diary? Considering he drinks almost all the gin and he's a human, he sort of would deserve it. Anyway, I walked back upstairs and I don't think the boy saw me turn my usual sullen expression into one of amusement so im safe._

_Until next time diary, _

_Sweeney Todd _

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><p><em>Thursday, April 14<em>_th__, 1846_

_Dear Diary,_

_I didn't kill anybody today, they all came in with wives and daughters and I just couldn't kill ALL of them, that's just mean! That, and I Promised the lady downstairs I wouldn't kill people who bring their families with them. She doesn't want me killing women because she thinks they haven't done anything wrong (she's quite the hypocrite though, considering she bakes dead people into pies which she then serves to unsuspecting guests) but what can I do? To be honest, I don't really want to kill women, they are a wonder. Even when they leave, they still somehow can remain, oh how they make a man sing. Hmmm…that sounds good. That should be a song. I'll call it women! No, I need an adjective to compliment the word…amazing? Graceful? Im not sure…but if I think if something I'll let you know._

_The (Metaphorical) Lady Killer,_

_Sweeney Todd_

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><p><em>Friday, April 15<em>_th__, 1846_

_Dear Diary,_

_I think Eleanor has forgotten me. Not that I care but it's just…weird! She used to annoy me constantly with stupid questions and useless blabber but now she barely visits me! I don't like to admit it but I get strangely lonely without her trying to get me to return the affection she used to show me almost daily. That's it for today diary._

_The irresistibly charming barber, _

_Sweeney Todd_

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><p><em>Saturday, April 16<em>_th__, 1846_

_Dear Diary,_

_Thoughts of the judge are driving me mad! I've been sleeping even less than usual and I've run out of razors to sharpen…maybe I could sharpen Edwards scissors or talk to Eleanor. Yes Diary, I'm really that desperate to distract myself. Gin usually takes the edge off…though it hasn't been working as well as it used to. Maybe a trip to the nearest drinking establishment tomorrow will give me some peace from my own thoughts. I'll be home late tomorrow night so don't wait up Diary!_

_Drunkard in the making,_

_Sweeney Todd_

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><p>As soon as Nellie finished his latest entry, the door to the barber shop flew open and Sweeney Todd stumbled in. It was obvious he had visited the nearby pub, and not just because she read it in his Diary. His shirt was rumpled and untucked on his right side, his jacket seemed undisturbed except for the few stains of the alcohol he spilt while drinking that night and he smelled like a mix of gin, rum, whiskey and cigarettes.<p>

"Why hello there Mrs. Lovett!" He slurred, stumbling over toward her in the barber chair, "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Oh, 'ello there Mr. T, I was actually just leaving…" Nellie said, rising from the barber's chair, hiding the journal behind her back and heading towards the door and around Sweeney who was partially in the way of her only exit (only exit alive that is, the only other way out is through the hidden trap door beneath the seemingly harmless barber chair).

"So soon? I don't want you to leave, it gets quite lonely up here Misses." Sweeney told her and grabbed her by her shoulders and pushed her back into the chair. "But what's this?" He asked her, circling to the back of the chair and taking the book she was hiding behind her back, "You've found my little Diary haven't you?"

"I-I didn't read Mr. T, honest…" Mrs. Lovett lied weakly

"Do you mean to tell me you found my diary _and _key but didn't read it? You weren't the least bit curious? Curious to see what the killer Sweeney Todd _really _thinks? Please don't insult my intelligence dear; you read this. I don't know how much, but it really doesn't matter." Mr. Todd spewed between half stumbles; like the world was spinning round and round but he was the only one who could feel it.

"I may have, umm, read an entry or two…" she admitted, still a bit nervous since she couldn't see if he had his razor with him or not.

"Ahhh, and the truth's revealed," Sweeney said with quiet victory "No need to fret Mrs. Lovett, I really don't mind. It's quite alright." He read her worried mind; she was concerned she had made a deadly mistake by reading his secret thoughts and prays he doesn't remember this the next morning.

"Really? Well if you're not bothered I best be on my way, it's rather late and I 'ave things to do early tomorrow morning…" Nellie explained, trying to rise from the chair again but was pushed back down by Mr. T.

"You work so hard dear, why not open up shop later tomorrow, eh?" He suggested as he started to massage her shoulders, "Or better yet, have the boy open up the shop; He'll do _anything _for you." On the word _anything_, he lowered his head and whispered the rest of his sentence in her ear; continuing to rub her shoulders and weaken Mrs. Lovett's will to leave.

"Mmm, Toby…yes, that's a good idea, love…" Nellie succumbed to his words and his touch; he's much more affectionate when he's drunk, a _very _pleasant change in her opinion. She decided to keep this information in the back of her head; whenever she wanted to share a secret, tell him what she thought or just plain talk, he and his intoxicated brain would only be a few drinks away from pleasant conversations. After a couple minutes of silence, Sweeney spoke again.

"So, tell me Mrs. Lovett…Eleanor…Nellie…." he said each of her titles longer and with more playfulness and sweetness than the one before, placing his right hand over hers which was resting on the armrest and wrapping his left arm around the back of the chair. "What did you think of my little entries hmm? What do you think of ol' Sweeney now? Do you think he's still the mad, revenge obsessed lunatic he appears to be on the surface? Or is there something…more?" He asked all of these questions in a seductive whisper

"I don't really-" Mrs. Lovett tried to answer but was interrupted by Sweeney.

"My goodness it's getting late!" Sweeney exclaimed after unwrapping his arm from around the chair and checking the time on his pocket watch, "You should get some rest, pet. You work so hard; we wouldn't want you to be exhausted tomorrow would we?" He tightened his grip on Nellie's hand and pulled her out of the chair, leading her to the door.

"Oh of course Mr. T, that's a wonderful idea." She said, letting him believe it was he who suggested she should leave, "You're such a smart man, I don't know what I'd do without you, love." she was really laying it on thick, desperate for one last taste of his affection before she left. She turned to walk through the doorway when Sweeney admitted one of his secrets.

"I don't know what I'd do without you either, Eleanor." He told her, and hugged her around her tiny waist and rested his chin on her exposed shoulder,

"I really don't know…"

They stood there for a moment then Mrs. Lovett reached back to stroke his hair and said:

"Well I best be off. Sleep tight, love." She turned to pat his shoulder, look at his drunk puppy dog eyes and give him a fleeting, reassuring smile then left for the night; leaving Mr. Todd to sleep off the numerous drinks he had consumed earlier that night.

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><p>The next morning, Eleanor was serving her pies to her lunchtime customers when she heard the door leading to the patio and the stairs to Mr. T's shop open. Mr. Todd himself walked in, slightly hunched over and mumbling something about aspirin under his breath, towards the cabinet where they kept the aspirin (coincidentally it was the same cabinet where the gin was, as it seemed appropriate).<p>

"'Ello there Mr. T!" She addressed him louder than necessary, still dancing around serving customers. "'Ow are you this afternoon?"

"Mmm…" he moaned, clutching his head and downing two pills that he hoped would cure what ailed him. He started back up the stairs to his shop when he started to hear footsteps following him. He turned and spotted Nellie Lovett one stair below him.

"Can I help you Mrs. Lovett?" he asked, wincing slightly from his throbbing head.

"Could a talk to you for a tick, Mr. T?" she asked in a lower volume than she used prior, as not to upset him further.

"No." He said curtly; turning back around to ascend the last few steps to his shop and heard the footsteps again. Knowing he couldn't stop the blasted woman from interacting with him, Sweeney grudgingly suppressed the urge to slam the door in her smiling, sunken eyed face.

Mrs. Lovett was the first one to speak, as per usual,

"Had a little too much to drink last night Mr. T?" she asked, not even trying to hide her smirk.

"What do you want you Mrs. Lovett?" Sweeney asked harshly; he was not in the mood for this woman's nonsense.

Nellie thought about telling him what happened last night; seeing as he obviously didn't recall any of it, but she decided against this, wanting to keep that moment a secret for now.

"Oh, I just wanted to see if you needed anything," she started to lie "but I can see you would just like to be left alone, so I'll just be going…" she turned to leave the shop and heard Mr. Todd mumble something incoherent as she closed the door behind her.

It was around 9:30 pm when Sweeney left his parlor for the second time that day and approached Mrs. Lovett flipping through her book on the black satin settee.

"Mrs. Lovett. I need to talk to you." He told her, not even bothering with a polite hello before his blunt statement. Nellie figured he was his usual self again and decided it was safe to ask him why he left his dimly lit cubbyhole.

"Well talk away dear, I've got no place to be anytime soon." she replied, a bit curious about what he wanted to discuss. She thought for a fleeting moment that he remembered everything that occurred last night, but was pleasantly surprised at what he said.

"Edward."

"What about 'im? I thought you two got along rather nicely." she pointed out.

"Yes, well I don't mind him…and I was considering hiring…an assistant to shave the ah, unusable customers." Sweeney explained slightly nervously, which Mrs. Lovett thought was silly; Sweeney Todd isn't nervous, especially around her.

"And you were thinking of using Edward?" she inquired, a little concerned of what he might see up there.

"Yes, but for the unharmed customers only, that I swear." Mr. Todd promised her, regaining his usual confidence.

"Well…business _'as _increased ten fold…and you must be busy up there with no 'elp at all…" Nellie considered, "Alright. But we'll have to ask Edward tomorrow, he's already gone to bed for the night." She said, still not fully convinced with the idea.

"Good. I'll be down at 7 tomorrow night to propose the idea." Sweeney informed her,

"Goodnight, Mrs. Lovett." he departed and left Nellie on the couch, still wondering if what she agreed to was a good idea.

_Well, he's probably good at it; the man has scissors for hands for god's sake! He's most likely had a lot of practice. _

Eleanor pondered this for another minute before deciding to retire for the night.

She bookmarked her page, stood up, and made her way to her room to dream about a home by the sea with Sweeney, Edward and Toby at her side.

_Maybe it will all work out… _

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><p><strong>Did you like the OOC journal entries? They were actually really amusing to write XD I'm sorry about the absence of Edward, I PROMISE he will be in the next chapter! review pretty please! :)<strong>


	3. The Offer

**I AM SO SORRY! I know i have taken forever to write this and its a bit short too...forgive me? :)**

**ANYWAY! I don't own anything like I have said in the previous chapters**

**Enjoy!**

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><p><strong><span>Chapter 3:<span> The Offer**

It was 6:30 and the nagging of her worry was getting ridiculous. Even she, who hates pacing, was considering picking up the habit her upstairs inhabitant is so fond of to get rid of her excess energy and nervousness. She wouldn't let herself copy her favorite vengeful barber and instead decided to perch herself on the settee she loved almost as much as her ghostly flame, Sweeney. She picked up her book she was reading the previous night and tried to concentrate on the words printed on the page but her butterflies grew as each moment passed.

6:31...6:32...6:33...the clock on top of the mantle above the fireplace ticked obnoxiously with the sound of passing time. Thankfully, Edward walked in and placed himself precariously on the next available cushion to the right of Mrs. Lovett. _Ah, a distraction. _She thought and smiled at her second favorite pale inhabitant of the home she had created for herself over the passing years, especially after her husband, Albert, died.

"Hi." Edward said at near inside-voice volume. He was getting better at speaking at a volume people could actually _hear. _

"'Ello dear!" Mrs. Lovett said cheerily despite the fluttering in her stomach, "'Ow was your day?"

"Good." He responded lightly, "What do you and Mr. T want to talk to me about?"

"Oh, nothing much," Nellie replied airily, waving her right hand in indifference, "Just wanted to ask you a question."

"About what?" he asked, turning towards her, looking with brown, questioning orbs.

"oh, uh, I dunno dear," She lied weakly, but enough to get him to believe her. "He wouldn't tell me, Mr. Todd's a very secretive man after all." she didn't like lying to him, even if it's just a little white lie. It's still being dishonest.

"Yes he is." Edward agreed. He too had noticed his minimal amount of visits to the shop or living room while other people were present. Although he has been visiting the downstairs pie shop more than he ever has before; it's still not all that often, but nevertheless…it's more.

They sat in silence for a few moments before Nellie looked at the clock again: 6:47. _Great, I'm sittin 'ere, nervous as can be and that ol' clock 'as the nerve to move slower than a salted snail! _

"Do you know where Toby is?" Edward asked, breaking the slightly uncomfortable silence that hung in the air around them.

"I suppose he's up in his room, dear." She answered, "Though I'm not sure…he might be at Mrs. Moody's. The woman _does _like to dote on the lad. I just hope she doesn't feed him one of her pies…"

"Why not?" He wondered aloud, the man was filled with questions today.

"Well, ahhh her pies are a bit, umm…They're just not very…" Mrs. Lovett fumbled over her words as she tried to explain to Edward that:

"She uses stray cats in her meat pies." Sweeney said, leaning on the doorframe left of the chatting couple, like he had been there unnoticed for quite some time. "Hello, Edward. Mrs. Lovett."

"Mrs. Moody uses cats in her-" Edward started to ask but was cut off by the baker.

"Well thank you for lurking in the doorway and eavesdropping on our conversation, Mr. T," Nellie said exasperatedly, "Now can we please get onto the subject we wanted to discuss with Edward?"

"If you insist." Sweeney replied dryly, taking three strides so as to stand in front of his hopefully soon-to-be new assistant.

"What do you want to ask me?" Edward asked with a puzzled look on his pale, adorable face.

"If, instead of working with Mrs. Lovett, you would like to work with me in my tonsorial parlor." Sweeney said

"R-Really?" Edward stuttered, sounding shocked at the offer; Sweeney was nice to him by his standards but in Edwards eyes, he probably seemed like he wouldn't like to bother with him at all.

"Of course." Sweeney said smoothly "Business has increased lately and I've decided who better to help me than you?"

"What would I do?" Edward asked Sweeney with curiosity, cocking his head to the right like a dog would after its owner asked it a question.

" Just help me shave the customers is all. Nothing to difficult." Mr. Todd said simply.

"But you don't have to if you don't want to dear." Nellie said, not wanting to possibly expose him to something more gruesome than just a shave at your local barber shop.

Ignoring Mrs. Lovett's attempt at keeping her new orphan under he eyes at all times, hoping he never finds out about her and Mr. T's little "business".

"So what do you say Edward?" Sweeney asked him with a shadow of a smile playing across his lips. After a minute or two of Edward mulling over the idea of him spending extra time with Sweeney Todd and shaving customers, he finally spoke again.

"I would like that very much." Edward told him with a smile that almost literally brightened the dull room.

"Wonderful. We'll start your training next Sunday." Mr. T informed him, "Well goodnight Edward. Eleanor." and with a curt nod, turned on his heels and left to go back to his dark room above the bakery.

Edward returned to his room with a "Goodnight" in Mrs. Lovett's direction, leaving her to her thoughts which weren't exactly focused on Edward working with Mr. T.

_Why did he use my first name? _she wondered to herself as she started to walk towards her room. _He used my first name in his diary too! What is going on with that man? Ah well, lets just hope Mr. T keeps his word and doesn't give any shaves free of charge whilst Edward is in the shop too…_

These thoughts lasted her until she reached the door to her bedroom. She opened the door which creaked slightly, walked over to her dresser and changed into her bedclothes before crawling into bed and laying her head on her pillow; trying to sleep but nightmares about Edward and his discovery of the secret she has tried so hard to keep.

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><p><strong>So how was it? again it's a bit short I know but I'm going to be updating soon! Thanks for sticking with me and my nonsense through this ridiculously long absence of non existant updates! Review? I think so :)<strong>

**P.S. check out the forum** **'Who Loves Sweeney Todd?' It's run by Taylor Todd Riddle Sparrow :)**


	4. A Kiss and A Killer Plan B

**HI! I'm sorry this took so long! I really am! The end of summer was more hectic than I thought and School has just been ridiculously demanding this year so I apologize! I finished the last 2 paragraphs or so tonight and I'm exhausted from homework so if you see anything like a grammatical error or anything, please mention it! Thank you for your patience!  
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**Disclaimer: I don't own Sweeney Todd or any of its characters etc.**

**Without further ado, here's my (ha ha probably not) highly anticipated addition to Sweeney's Opportunity!**

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><p><strong><span>Chapter 4:<span> a Kiss and A Killer Plan B**

The week passed by quicker than it took Sweeney to slice the throat of a customer and the days passed in a tropical storm of color and sound and poor Mrs. Lovett couldn't keep track of them to save her life.

Edward thought the opposite however; he couldn't wait to start cutting hair, trimming beards and shaving the faces of men he will never remember. As the morning of Edwards first day being Mr. T's apprentice arrived, it wasn't a surprise that Edward was excited; but for Sweeney Todd the murderous barber to look as excited as he did was absurd.

Ridiculous.

Nonsensical.

The only reason he would be remotely excited for anything is that he has a plan. A good plan. A plan that would get him what he wanted most in this world: The Judge. She just hoped that Edward wouldn't be there when it happens.

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><p>"I just apply the shaving cream and then shave him?" Edward asked as he re-honed his scissors on the leather strap attached to the barber chair. In honor of Edward joining Sweeney in the barbering business, Mr. Todd bought and installed a shiny new barber chair across the room from his own.<p>

"That's it. Nothing more, nothing less." Sweeney answered simply, standing behind _his_ barber chair and sharpening his tool of choice; a glistening silver razor.

They had spent all day going over techniques which Edward picked up with astonishing speed and ease; it was like he was made to be a barber. "It's getting late; you should probably go downstairs and eat something."

"Oh, ok." Edward said and walked towards the door to leave when he turned around to see Sweeney not following him. "Aren't you coming?"

"No, I've got to sharpen my razors before we open tomorrow." Sweeney said, continuing to run his beautiful razors across the leather strap.

"Oh. Well, bye." Edward turned again and walked through the doorway and down to the pie shop.

"Well, 'ello dear! You're just in time for supper!" Mrs. Lovett greeted him as he walked in just as Nellie and Toby were sitting down to eat dinner. "We're having chicken pot pies, Toby's favorite."

"Ok." He said with a smile, sitting down to enjoy dinner with 2/3rd of his new family.

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><p>A couple weeks went by as word got out that the "man with the hands" has started working with Sweeney Todd in his tonsorial parlor on Fleet Street. The rumor was that Edward was just as skilled, or possibly even <em>better <em>than the mysterious barber; depending on who you talked to.

Edward had become known for his slightly unorthodox hairstyles in about week two and people went CRAZY for his new and odd outlook on how hair could sit atop your head. Instead of men wearing their hair slightly long and a bit wavy, Edward cut it short, severely parting it to the side and smoothing it down; making it more practical and easier to keep up with than the current style.

Sweeney seemed to absolutely, positively _glow_ whenever he heard mutters about his shop when Mrs. Lovett would drag him to the market to buy something or other for the pie shop or Toby or herself.

Mr. T's behavior had changed so much since Edward had been brought home; Nellie had begun to feel that something was going on in the shadowy barbers head and was determined to find out what it was. She decided to confront him subtly one evening after everyone had retired to their rooms.

"'Ello dear, 'ow are you this evening?" She asked as she sat beside him on the satin settee.

"All right, Nellie; how are you?" Sweeney replied. That was another odd thing too; Sweeney had started calling Mrs. Lovett by her first name, which did nothing to settle her suspicions.

"Oh, I'm fine." Nellie answered, sitting down close enough to the pastel skinned barber to make him suddenly stiffen a little then relax again just as quickly, but far enough that she wouldn't brush his elbow if she bent her arm.

"I've been meaning to ask ya a question Mr. T" Mrs. Lovett told him, turning her head to face him, "I was just wonderi-"

"Nellie," Sweeney interrupted her before she could ask the dangerous question he was sure had been dancing around in her mind for a while now. "Have I ever told you how beautiful I think you are?"

Nellie was silenced immediately by what Sweeney had said and he took this situation and turned it to his advantage…by kissing Mrs. Nellie Lovett.

The kiss took all previous thoughts from her mind and shrouded them in bliss filled clouds even after it had ended.

"Goodnight…Nellie." Sweeney whispered, standing up and exiting the room without another word.

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><p>The next day, just before closing time, a customer showed up in Sweeney's shop.<p>

That customer was Judge Turpin.

"I am here to see a Mr. Edward." The Judge sneered, "Is he in?"

Sweeney turned from his window towards the door and froze; this was it, the moment he had been waiting for for years and it was in his grasp, he just needed to say the right words and revenge-Lucy's revenge-would be his.

"Ah, no sir you just missed him," Sweeney informed him like he was any other customer, "But may I be of service to you?"

"Well do you know when he'll be in next?" Turpin asked with a slightly upturned nose.

"Tomorrow, sir." Sweeney replied, "But are you sure I can't be of any service to you?" Mr. T took a step closer to the man who didn't recognize his wrongdoings represented in the (pale) flesh.

"No. I'll just return tomorrow while Mr. Edward is in." The Judge said as though Sweeney was inferior to the Fleet Street Misfit, "Good night to you, sir."

"Well, could I possibly off-" But the door slammed shut as the Judge walked out of the shop.

"NOOOOO!" Sweeney roared as he slashed his razor in the air out of pure rage. He had missed his chance, his _opportunity_ because the Judge had come to see Edward. Not him, but Edward. If Judge Turpin wanted to see Edward, he would come back soon-_tomorrow-_in fact; he had said so himself before he left.

_What to do, what to do. _Sweeney thought. _Tomorrow, when the Judge returns to see Edward I will make sure Turpin sees him in the shop then send Edward away and dispose of the slimy bastard behind his back so as to not upset Nellie…yes, that is what I will do. _

Sweeney finished his plotting and planning, stopped his pacing and went down the stairs to his Land lady's pie shop for a drink; the same pie shop Judge Turpin would make a public appearance in sooner than he thought.

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><p><strong>So there it is! Review and tell me what you think! Thank you to everyone who reviewed this and my Sweeney Todd Lyric + Character stories! I would list you all but It has just been so long since I have uploaded so I want to get this to you guys ASAP! :)<strong> **P.S. visit my profile if you want the latest news on what I'm writing and what I'm focusing on at the moment :)** **P.S.S. check out TeeneySweeney's stories and profile! She's a lovely person :)**


	5. Slipped Through his Fingers Again

**Ok I know I have been gone over TWO MONTHS and i will give you my meaningless reasons AFTER this chapter. This is a Christmas gift from me to you! :) Before you read, please enjoy this silly little conversation between Edward and Dear Ol' Mr. T ;) Dedicated to AndromedaTodd:  
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**"Hey Sweeney?"**

**"Yeah?"**

**"Do you kill people?"**

***spits out gin* Why would you ask that? Did Pirelli say something to you? Mrs. Lovett? Or that rat Toby?"**

**"No; One: Pirelli is dead, two: Mrs. Lovett bakes your victims into meat pies and three: Toby is just a kid who isn't aware of his surroundings and probably couldn't tie his shoes if his shoes actually had laces."**

**"….."**

**"I am not blind you know."**

**"…."**

**You're shocked, I can tell, just give it a minute to soak in.**

**While while we wait for Sweeney to soak that shocking news in; here's chapter five! :)**

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><p><strong><span>Chapter 5:<span> Slipped Through his Fingers Again**

"Why doesn't the Judge come?" Sweeney asked Mrs. Lovett harshly as he paced in front of his window.

"He said he'd come today," Nellie reminded him from Sweeney's barber chair, "and the day's not nearly out yet." Sweeney glanced at her but wasn't consoled by her words and Mrs. Lovett tried again.

"It's only three and you don't close up shop until seven." Mrs. Lovett reasoned with him. "Besides," She rose from her seat and approached him from behind, placing an assuring hand on his arm as she stood next to him. "Court doesn't even let out until six."

Sweeney stood there in silence, giving Nellie doubt as to whether or not he actually heard her.

"Fine." he finally replied, taking the chair Mrs. Lovett recently vacated.

"Good." She replied then turned to leave but not before Sweeney added:

"And bring Edward back from conversing with his…_customers._" Sweeney spat with disgust.

"Alright, dearie." She sighed, and walked away from him and towards the door to leave but not before she thought she heard him say something like: "Thank you Nellie."

But it was probably just her imagination.

Edward had been brought down the stairs to be shown off to the man's wife (which had recently become a common occurrence) who had been eating a meat pie downstairs whilst Edward had shaved him.

"I'm terribly sorry to cut this conversation short but Edward needs to return back upstairs." Mrs. Lovett told the well-dressed gentleman and his wife.

"Of course," the man said, "good day to you Mr. Edward, m'lady." With that he tipped his hat towards Edward and Mrs. Lovett then walked arm in arm with his wife back to wherever they came from.

"Bye." Edward said after the couple was out of earshot and let Mrs. Lovett take him by the arm and lead him back up the stairs to the Demon Barber's lair.

It was past sunset and into the time the outside world becomes creepier and more intimidating than usual which is the same time as the barber shop above Mrs. Lovett's new revived meat pie shop.

"NO!" Sweeney bellowed as he checked the silver pocket watch; it was seven minutes to closing and the Judge still hadn't made an appearance. "He said today, today he'd come and what happens? He doesn't show up! It's just like that vulture to lie to someone isn't it? The slimy, manipulative, BASTARD!"

"Shhh, shhh. It'll be all right, he'll come, he'll be here." Mrs. Lovett soothed him sensing he was on the brink of possibly becoming madder than he was to begin with. Edward had left the shop as instructed by Nellie when she arrived in the shop ten minutes prior because she sensed the increasing distress of the barber by his quickening and almost deafening pacing.

"He _has _to come, he has to. He-he just…just…" Sweeney's atoms of rage were dissipating into atoms of hopelessness that settled into a pyramid of despair and formed a molecule of defeated emptiness in the pit of his stomach. His knees wobbled and Nellie knew she just had to help the poor, crazed man regain his composure and blood lust for it was the only thing keeping him from losing his mind completely.

"There, there dear." She said quietly, hinting pity in her voice for the man in front of her as she walked over to him from her spot in Sweeney's chair, "It's all gonna be all right…" Nellie slipped her right arm around his waist and took his left arm and draped it over her shoulders then brought him over to his barber chair and made him sit.

"The Judge has to come, you sure said he would be here today?" Nellie asked. Sweeney nodded stiffly once but did not look up. "Then he will be; good things come to those who wait, love." As if on cue, the bell in the tonsorial parlor tinkled and the door opened to reveal the Judge standing in the threshold.

"Is Edward here?" The Judge asked with a hint of impatientness.

"No, he's-" Sweeney started to reply but was cut off by the one person he least wanted to see.

Edward.

_It's like my life has been turned into a novel; the constantly unfortunate events and perfect timing of inconveniences have made this seem slightly fictional_

"Mr. Todd-Oh. Hello" He said, sounding a bit surprised to see a customer in the shop this late; it was almost closing time after all.

"Ah, Edward, just the man I was looking for!" The Judge quietly exclaimed.

"Me?" Edwards asked confusedly.

"Yes you, I require the best of the best and according to London's latest rumors; that would be you." He explained.

"If its ok with…?" Edward-knowing the lateness of the hour-trailed off and swept his questioning eyes over to Sweeney.

"Yes, of course." Sweeney forced himself to say through gritted teeth, hoping he didn't sound as angry as he really was; as if the judge would notice anything about him, if he hadn't put the pieces together after seeing him for the first time since his sentence, he would have noticed something oddly familiar about him.

"Excellent." He stated and walked over to Edward's barber chair to take a seat.

Sweeney was fuming; he was insulted by the conviction that _he _wasn't the best barber in all of London, _Edward _was. Mrs. Lovett, sensing the tension radiating from her ghostly barber she said "Well Mr. T let's leave Edward to his work, eh?"

"Of course." He replied flatly with the air of someone who wasn't really listening to what they were agreeing to. Nellie had just shut the door when Sweeney burst. "GODDAMNIT!" Sweeney yelled and slammed his right fist on the counter of the pie shop.

"Love please, calm down." Nellie asked, almost pleaded.

"Calm down?" Sweeney asked dangerously "CALM DOWN? HOW AM I TO CALM DOWN WHEN IT SHOULD BE ME UP THERE, GIVING HIM WHAT HE DESERVES!" He was inches away from her now, eyes aflame and breathing heavily.

"Love, people could hear…" Nellie reminded him timidly, specifically the _judge _might hear and that would be devastating to their current plan.

"I DON'T CARE WHAT PEOPLE HEAR! I-" Sweeney started yelling again but cut himself off, realizing _exactly_ who might hear him and stepped backwards.

"Fine. I won't let my emotions spill over, per usual," Sweeney agreed and Nellie felt her nerves stop tingling and relax. "But the next time the judge shows up at my doorstep don't count on him coming back down. _Alive_."

"'Course not love, wouldn't dream of it." She mumbled in response to his deathly promise.

"Good." He said, getting himself a tumbler of gin and sitting at the table that gave him the first (and last) experience with Mrs. Lovett's pies when they saw Edward and The Judge walking down the stairs, having what seemed to be a pleasant conversation.

"…Yes that's right, next Thursday. Be sure to expect me at 6:40." The Judge told Edward.

"Ok, Bye!" Edward sweetly waved after him, unaware of the monster that he was.

Edward walked into the shop and greeted both Sweeney and Nellie with a hello; Toby as usual had gone to bed, or rather passed out with a half empty bottle of gin in his right hand. As soon as the cheery hello had left Edwards lips, Sweeney, whose eyes were still burning like hot coals, got up to brush past Edward and exit the pie shop without a word to his _overly helpful_ assistant.

"Is he all right?" Edward asked, eyes filled with concern.

"perfectly fine, dear." Nellie replied, "Why d'you ask?"

"He looks upset…" He explained

"Upset? Oh, no the poor man's just tired." Nellie waved away his correct observation with a quick lie.

"Oh. All right. Goodnight Mrs. Lovett." Edward said and retired to his room.

Nellie thought about what Edward had said, "_He looks upset…"_

Boy, was _that _an understatement.

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><p><strong>"Good Lord..."<strong>

**Well it looks like the news has finally sunken in to Sweeney! :)  
><strong>

**Reasons for late update:  
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**Finishing this chapter and uploading has been number one on my priorities but slightly lower on my To Do list...number 7 to 7 1/2 (yes 7 1/2). I think about this story everyday so don't think I forgot about it!  
><strong>

**You: Thinking doesn't make it happen!**

**Me: I know. But it's the thought that counts right? ;)  
><strong>

**AP US HISTORY IS KICKING MY BUTT! It's insanity! that and i had to organize my thoughts on this chapter but they were all mixed up for some weird reason...guess it's some sort of writers block...**

**Thank you to all who aren't going to find me and kill me in my sleep Sweeney style and to those of you who are...the REAL Sweeney lives under my bed so he'll get you before you get me ;)**

**Happy Christmas as the British say and Merry Christmas as we Americans say! Hope you all got what you wanted for Christmas! I didnt...Sweeney wasnt under my tree this year :( Curse you Santa! or should I say...SATAN! (Thats Santa with the letters jumbled all up)**

**P.S. please R & R and answer the polll on my profile I NEED your opinion to help this story! :)**


	6. Diaries and Discoveries

**Hello! My first chapter that hasnt taken a month to publish! hooray! Although that's quite sad, I know I'm dreadful at updating! **

**WARNING: Sweeney Will be EXTREMELY OOC in his diary entries...fair warning.**

**Disclaimer: Sweeney Todd doesn't belong to me, a teenage girl with a laptop and an imagination. Shocker.**

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><p><strong><span>Chapter 6:<span> Diaries and Discoveries**

"This is wrong, this is wrong, this is wrong!" She repeated in her head as she went up to the shop to read his diary again. He had left for the night and closed up shop early to go drinking at whichever pub took his fancy this evening. The loss of his opportunity to murder the judge and avenge Lucy had taken a toll on his sanity; one he really couldn't afford considering his level of madness was at an all-time high and it made for some terribly awkward questions from the customers and the same generic answer from Mrs. Lovett: he's fine. It had been 3 days since the, ah, _incident_and Nellie was nearly as mad as Mr. T with worry. Not only was he compromising his sanity and hers but the business's credibility as well. That was her justification for going into his shop without his permission to read something private and personal which would help her assess his level of misery and madness. She found the key for the second time and his leather bound journal which luckily hadn't been moved since the last time she had done some unknown snooping. She unlocked it and flipped to the place she left off: April 17.

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><p><em>April 17th, 1846<em>

_Guess what diary, I asked her! I asked her what she thought about my idea to have Edward help me in the shop and guess what she said!_

_That I have to ask Edward._

_I know, I know, a bit anticlimactic but it's still something...be proud, diary! Your little barber is growing up!_

_Owner of a self-inflatable ego,_

_Sweeney Todd_

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><p><em>April 18th, 1846<em>

_OMG diary, gu-what? Oh, it means oh my God. Yes, I'm well aware it's a couple hundred years after my time, jeez diary try and keep up. Anyhow! Guess what? We asked Edward today and side note: I told Edward what Mrs. Mooney makes her meat pies with, ahahaha! Back to the point, we asked him and he said yes! Can you believe it? My plan finally has momentum! Err, well, any movement at all really...ANYWAY! I've got to get back to my brooding; who knows how much training the guy is going to cut into my sulking and staring out my ginormous window time!_

_A surprisingly happy hater of the world and life in general,_

_Sweeney Todd_

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><p><em>April 25, 1846<em>

_Sorry I haven't written in a while diary! I have been very busy with Edward and the shop and hiding my liquor so that drunken brat doesn't hog it all...In any case, guess who has been talking about my shop? EVERYONE! It's like, super exciting and I hope the judge hears about me!_

_A very school girl like version of myself,_

_Sweeney Todd_

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><p><em>May 9th, 1846<em>

_O. M. G. Guess what I just found out; people are saying that Edward is better than me! Isn't that ridiculous diary?_  
><em>I mean for one, I was the person who taught him how to be an almost-as-epic-as-me barber and my hair is waaayyy better than his anyway! Mrs. Lovett used to fawn over it! Until he came that is...*sniffle* but whatever diary, it's not like I care. *sniffle* WHATEVER! I'm going to go stare out my humungous window and not think about how sad I am...bye.<em>

Not_ a sad or jealous barber,_

_Sweeney Todd_

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><p><em>May 9th, 1846 (again)<em>  
><em>I know I've already written in you today but this deserves its own entry!<em>

_I don't know what happened, diary! I was in the living room staring aimlessly into the fire for a change of scenery which I won't notice anyway, I'll just see through it. Mrs. Lovett showed up and started talking to me which was pretty rude if you ask me, since I was minding my own business but I had to pay attention to what she was saying and I was being like, SUPERS nice about it and have been calling her by her first name recently and I'm not sure why but back to the point; she was going to ask something about Edward and I knew I wouldn't be able to give her a good answer so instead of getting myself in trouble I asked her if I've ever told her how beautiful I think she is and she didn't say anything. Then for some reason unfathomable to me, I _kissed_ her! And the worst part is, diary, I liked it! Oh and the 'have I ever told you how beautiful I think you are' thing? Yeah, I meant that! This is insane, diary. I have no idea what is going on and I have a feeling I have gotten myself into more trouble than her question would have given me...anyway,_  
><em>I won't keep you in the dark about this predicament... who am I kidding? My room is always dark!<em>

_Confused beyond belief,_

_Sweeney Todd_

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><p><em>May 10th, 1846<em>  
><em>Guess who came into the shop today? The JUDGE! No, I didn't kill him; I wouldn't be writing in you if I did, thanks for rubbing it in my face you stupid book!<em>  
><em>…I didn't mean that I'm sorry. So; the Judge walked in looking for Edward and I'm all: 'bitch Edward ain't here, but I am!' And he's all: you? Yeah, I'm totally better than everyone and I think Edward is super cool so I want him to cut my hair not you, you incredibly sexy barber.'<em>

_...Fine, he didn't say it like that but that is definitely what he was thinking! I asked if I could help him but he just left! He left because Edward wasn't there! I think the brat might be more trouble than he's worth, but at least the judge says he's coming back tomorrow so I get another chance…hopefully._

_Angrier (but not scarier) than Mrs. Lovett during her "time of the month",_

_Sweeney Todd_

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><p>Once again, just as Nellie finished the last sentence the door to the shop tinkled and in walked Sweeney…Sober.<p>

"Ah, Nellie to what do I owe this-what is that you've got?" He asked from the doorframe he was leaning on, pointing to his diary she was holding.

"Oh, nothing," she replied with more confidence than she had "just something I picked up for a bit of light reading." Not entirely a lie, but she was still concealing something.

"Really?" He inquired, crossing his arms over his chest, "Because it looks like the journal I keep under the floorboards."

"Your what?" she asked him trying to play the part as a woman in shock, "You keep a _journal _under your floorboards? I find that hard to believe."

"Is that so?" he tested, knowing full well Mrs. Lovett was _quite _aware of what she was reading, "Well then, you wouldn't be opposed to a little chat about this, now would you?" Sweeney unfolded his arms from his chest and strode over to Edward's barber chair where he took a seat facing poor Mrs. Lovett. He motioned his hand for her to join him on the opposite side of the room as he said,

"Come on pet, I don't bite." And gave a smile Nellie knew wasn't real. There was no way out of her predicament and she knew it. She had taken a risk knowing the consequences yet her stomach churned at the thought of having to face them. She got up and slowly made her way to stand in front of The Demon Barber of Fleet Street.

"Sit, Nellie, sit." Sweeney cooed and patted his knee; indicating that she should sit on the fair skinned barber's lap. Again her thoughts drifted to the earlier realization that there was no way out of this and did what he wanted.

He snaked his left arm around her waist then looked up at her with a face strained with the effort of not letting its rage show.

"Now tell me Nellie," he whispered with fake encouragement; his tone edging ominously, "What do you know?"

_Certainly_ no way out of this.

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><p><strong>So how was it? I've got the chapter after next going all ready and chapter 7 is going to be all Sweenett! If it goes the way I think it will, which it never really does considering I have B.S.'d every chapter in this story. Apology for the LONG author's note in the last chapter...it was quite late and sometimes I turn completely mental in the later hours of the evening<strong>. **Sorry about that.** **Thank you to everyone has reviewed so far and answered the poll on my profile; you guys ROCK! :)**


	7. Anthony's Plot Twist

**Hello! It's been a while hasn't it? of course it has! I'm a dreadful updater! XD** **Anyway I hope you've all been well and would like to get straight to the point:**

**Here's the new chapter. oh, and it's a bit longer than usual...hope that's all right :)  
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**Disclaimer: I don't own anything, Edward belongs to Tim Burton and Sweeney...well I'm not sure who he originally belongs to. Guess he's an orphan until I find out.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 7:<strong>**Anthony's Plot Twist**

His question was met with silence as the woman on his lap look anywhere but him.

"It's all right pet, I'm not angry." He said soothingly but her eyes continued to roam the room as though the answer to his questions were hidden somewhere.

"Well if you're not ready to answer that question how about another one, hmm?" he asked in a quiet, encouraging voice. This question received an answer in the form if a nod; a good sign considering he wasn't quite sure if she hadn't gone catatonic.

"Good." Sweeney said, "Now how did you find my little book, hmm?" his inquiring gaze drained the confidence Nellie had just summed up to look at him. "I thought it was well hidden, even for my standards." he added.

"I w-wanted to ask y-you a question, b-but you weren't here." She started, trying not to let her nerves get the best of he; he wouldn't hurt her right? "I decided to wait for you so I sat in your barber chair."

"And then?" Sweeney nudged. Nellie steeled her nerves and continued.

"And then I accidentally pressed the tip of the armrest and the floorboard popped up. I went to ah, _investigate _and found this." She said, holding up the leather book still in her grasp.

"So you found the journal but how did you come by the key? I'm surprised you hadn't figured I kept it with me at all times considering the paranoid man I am." He told her.

"I had…considered it." Nellie replied squirming slightly, evading the question.

"You'll have to answer my questions eventually, love. I'm not going anywhere and neither are you." This reminder made her shutter inwardly; under normal circumstances those words would have been welcomed but seeing as this was an interrogation about her snooping she wasn't too keen on the idea.

"I looked for it." Nellie replied simply, hoping he wouldn't press further into the exact way she found (or more accurately _hunted down_) the key.

"I'm quite aware of that fact, but I need to know _how _you found it. Specifically." His request was simple enough, but Mrs. Lovett had no idea how to explain the fact that she had rummaged rather viciously through his things to find the key to a supposedly nonexistent diary.

"I looked through your things" She looked down out of either embarrassment or shame; she couldn't decide which was causing the rapidly spreading blush to burn brighter on her cheeks.

"Goodness Nellie, did you? I'm shocked, seeing as that's the only way to find hidden things that aren't yours." Sweeney replied; his words coated in mock indignation and surprise. Nellie knew there was no reason to delay the inevitable, no matter how appealing the idea sounded. She took a deep breath and began to explain:

"I was looking through your things and I hadn't found a single thing so I decided to give up and forget about it. I picked up all the things I knocked over and I felt a slight bump on the back of your picture frame. I unlatched it and the key just tumbled out. I tried it on the journal and it opened." The room fell silent again as she waited for Sweeney to absorb her rapidly spewed words.

"And then…?" He asked coaxing her to tell the remainder of her unfinished tale.

"I read your journal." She still hadn't looked up to face the man and her eyes were boring into a spot on the floorboards.

"My dear, you seem to be very fond of the obvious today." He replied. The lack of yelling, of rage, of uncontrolled and unrelenting anger completely bewildered Mrs. Lovett which made her neck snap up and her wide eyes meet his.

"What?" She asked confusedly "You-you're…you're not…?"

"Not angry? No, I'm not Nellie." He said as the corners of his lips twitched slightly.

"But-but I snuck in here when I knew you weren't here, I've raided through your things, I found your journal, I _read _your journal-"

"Nellie, dear, calm down." Sweeney requested soothingly, tightening his grip on her small waist.

"Calm down? Calm _down?_" Mrs. Lovett screeched, "you should be angry, you should be waving your razor around or 'olding it to my throat threatening me to forget everything, not-not being calm or seemingly unaffected or-or _consoling me!_"

"Is that still how you see me?" Sweeney asked with a bit of disappointment swirling around his eyes and words.

"I-well-should I not?" Mrs. Lovett was utterly bewildered and ridiculously confused with the pale barber's behavior.

"No, you should not." He closed his eyes and shook his head looking as though he was trying to emphasize how wrong she really was.

"Why not?"

That was wanted to know; the reason behind his more recent odd behavior, his almost pleasant attitude towards her. She waited with baited breath for the answer that could possible change her view of the lost man whose lap she was currently occupying.

"Because that's not who I am." His reply was cryptic and mysterious giving Mrs. Lovett no real answer but intrigued her all the same.

"Who are you, then?" Her curiosity was creeping higher and higher since the beginning of this little interaction.

"Everything you've read in that journal is true, not one word is a lie." He skimmed over the question but Nellie chose to ignore it; realizing the poor man probably doesn't know who he is any more than I do.

"Not one?" She asked purposefully "Well what about that silly little entry about our kiss, then?"

"Every word, pet." He took her chin and pulled her head down until they were eye to eye, "Every. Word." Sweeney pulled Mrs. Lovett into yet another thought blurring kiss. This kiss was soft and sweet and Nellie knew he really did mean every word. This kiss, just as the last, was short lived when Anthony burst in to the barber's lair shouting for the owner.

"Mr. Todd I-oh, sorry." Anthony mumbled as he realized what he had walked or rather _barged _into.

"Hello Anthony, to what do I owe this pleasure?" Sweeney replied pleasantly as though he wasn't snogging the thoughts out of his landlady a moment ago.

"I…well I can come back later…" Anthony said, clearly understanding how awkward his presence really was at the moment.

"Why? You're already here are you not?" Sweeney asked, "Come, what is it you wanted to discuss?"

Meanwhile, Nellie was stood next to the barber chair by Sweeney as he crossed the room to shake Anthony's hand and attempted to vaguely introduce her but beat him to it.

"Mrs. Lovett." Was all she said with a slight frost covering the four spoken syllables. She was a bit put out Anthony had barged in but perked up slightly when she heard him say:

"There's this girl, a beautiful girl and her guardian keeps her locked up but today she threw me this, surely that's a sign she wants me to rescue her?" He sounded so pathetically desperate that her out went out to the poor boy who hadn't meant to interrupt what could be called one of the best moments of her life.

"Rescue her? That's awfully romantic." She commented with a slight sigh women tend to exhale when dealing with slightly fictional romanticism inside the pages of a book or the whisper of hopelessly in love gossips.

"Yes." Anthony agrees with sunshine practically radiating from his smile then turns back to Sweeney; "do you think you could help me?"

"Of course." He agrees, "But first you must tell us the name of the poor girl."

"Johanna. She lives with Judge Turpin, an awful man if I do say so myself." The world around the three occupants of the room froze with shock for a moment then relaxed as though the atmosphere hadn't been filled with bolts of electricity rooting the two palest occupants to the spot. Johanna. _His _Johanna. Of course that would be the girl he had seen, wanted to rescue. Sweeney recovers well from the shock of it all and replies smoothly. "Turpin's ward? That will be quite the feat of we manage to get her out of there without his notice."

"I know, which is why I'm asking for your help. I haven't an idea as to how to take her without T-" Anthony began rambling when Mrs. Lovett cut across him.

"I have an idea and it's perfect."

"And what would that be, pet?" Sweeney asked, "Plan on luring him here with your pies?"

Not appreciating his sarcasm she replied. "No. I plan on letting him come here himself. For a shave." Not understanding the double meaning behind her plan, Anthony eagerly agrees; anything to save the girl he so desperately wants. Sweeney on the other hand _did _understand and thought it was more than he could have hoped for after that night Mrs. Lovett recounted the tragic tale of what had happened to his wife and daughter.

"What a wonderful idea Nellie!" He smiled and turned towards the sailor, "I'll keep Turpin occupied while you and Johanna get away from here."

"Oh, thank you Mr. Todd, Mrs. Lovett!" Anthony replied breathlessly, "I'll be forever in your debt."

"Not a problem Anthony, just inform us of the details at a later date." Sweeney replied.

"Preferable before Thursday," Mrs. Lovett added "we're expecting him on Thursday."

"Tomorrow, then? Later in the afternoon?" Anthony suggested eagerly.

"Of course, tomorrow afternoon." Agreed Sweeney.

"Well I'll just be going," Anthony said, "good night Mr. Todd, Mrs. Lovett." He walked out of the shop leaving the bell tinkling and a silence in its wake, only broken when Sweeney spoke:

"Well this just got a bit more interesting."

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><p><strong>How was It? I've got a page or two of the next chapter so hopefully school won't figuratively throw books at me yelling: "DO YOUR CHEMISTRY HOMEWORK, STOP READING FANFICTION!" obviously the imaginary teaching doing that doesn't know me very well ;) There are going to only be about 2 or three more chapters unless someone has a suggestion for a semi-filler chapter. Thank you for all previous reviews and please keep them coming; they make me smile like a lunatic :) Love you all! P.S. Christopher Bond owns Sweeney so I guess he isn't orphaned any more :)<br>**


	8. Not According To Plan

**Hello my lovelies! Here's another chapter for you! Enjoy!  
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><p><strong>Chapter 8:<strong>** Not According To Plan**

It was a cloudy London evening as Judge Turpin and Beadle Bamford made their way back to the mansion after a long and criminal filled day in the court when Turpin spoke:

"As you know Johanna has been giving me an awful and undeserved amount of ungratefulness."

"You have mentioned such behavior, my lord." Beadle replied

"When I saw that common sailor openly gawking at her, I knew I had to remind her where her loyalties and debts lie, wouldn't you agree?" Turpin asked.

"Oh, absolutely my lord." Beadle nodded in agreement.

"I proposed marriage to her expecting her to be thrilled but there was a certain...reluctance." He finished puzzled.

"And when, may I ask, did you propose this to her?" The slimy sidekick inquired.

"Why, a mere two days ago and she's yet to show any emotion whatsoever." Turpin answered.

"Excuse me my lord, but may I suggest you were perhaps looking less than your best?" The judge opened his mouth to reply, insulted that someone could place such an outlandish claim when the Beadle continued:

"There was powder upon your vest my lord and stubble upon your cheek…but ladies my lord are weak."  
>Looking at his reflection in a shop window, he noticed these unsavory details in his appearance and decided the Beetle's claim wasn't as outlandish as he'd thought.<p>

"And what do you suggest I do?" asked Turpin, turning back towards his lackey.

"I know of this barber, best in London they say, by the name of Edgar or Edmond." Beadle explained with enthusiasm.

"Has he his own establishment?"

"He is currently employed at Sweeney Todd's tonsorial parlor on Fleet Street." replied Beadle

"Yes of course! I remember the man, Edward his name was; visited him several days ago, did a fine job." The Judge mused aloud.

"I would bet my hat Johanna will be begging for forgiveness before the week is out after a quick appointment with Edward later today." Bamford assured him.

"Hmm." He said surveying his appearance in the glass again "I suppose a quick trip wouldn't hurt. Lead the way."

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><p>"Good afternoon, Mr. Todd." Anthony greeted as he closed the door to the barber shop.<p>

"Good afternoon, Anthony." Sweeney replied from his place by the window, "Have you managed to concoct a plan to save your imprisoned lass?"

"Yes and it's definitely going to work." Anthony announced proudly.

"Is that so? Sweeney asked, turning around to face the sailor, "Well then, care to elaborate?"

"Of course, seeing as you'll be playing a key role." He replied smiling.

"A key role?" Sweeney furrowed his brown wondering what he is supposed to do that was so important.

"You did say you would help me; I assumed you were a man of your word."

"And being a man of my word, I will do whatever it is you have planned." Sweeney said, upholding his promise to Anthony.

"And Mrs. Lovett?" Anthony inquired.

"What concern is she of yours in this plotting?" asked Sweeney

"Well I wouldn't want to alarm her if she happened to stumble upon a strangely feminine boy waiting in a barber shop of which its services would be greatly unneeded." Sweeney took a moment to understand the meaning behind his remark before replying,

"So you want to bring her here? To the shop to wait for something?"

"Not something, _someone_. And that someone is me with a carriage that will take us far away from the tainted streets of London." Anthony explained with pride.

"And how are you to extract her from the house to bring her here to wait for you and the carriage?"

"Well I figured I could break in-"

"And then have the police picking up your body by the shore three weeks later?" Sweeney asked skeptically, "Try again."

"_Or_ I could disguise myself as a salesmen and-" Anthony continued, trying to convince Mr. Todd that his idea was great and would work exactly how he wanted it to.

"Enough of your babbling; I want you to stake out the house late tonight, see which room she stays in and which one Turpin spends most of his time in. After you've done that we can formulate a sort of plan of action. Any questions?" instructed Sweeney. The boy's random ideas were getting on his nerves and he just wanted him out of there. As soon as the last syllable left his lips the predator in question walked through the tinkling doorway with a look of shock and outrage on his slimy face

"Judge Turpin, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Sweeney asked pleasantly. "I would have sworn you said Thurs-"

"You." He snarled, pointing at Anthony. His eyes went wide with fear and he muttered a small oh no.

"The boy?" Sweeney asked in fake innocence, "Surely this fellow has done you no wrong."

"But he has. Gandering at my ward, trying to win her heart, no wrong indeed!" Turpin scoffed.

"That may be but it doesn't explain your appearance here today, you're a day earlier than agreed." Sweeney wanted to get to the bottom of why he was here at such an inopportune moment.

"Unexpected engagement." Turpin answered vaguely, "Although it hardly matters now."

"And why would that be sir?"

"I don't associate myself with unlawful men who do business with the likes of him." The Judge replied icily then turned towards Anthony, "As for Johanna, don't expect to see her again if you know what's good for you, boy." He turned and exited what was to be his execution chamber leaving the bell tinkling in his wake.  
>Sweeney was stunned for a moment as though having the Judge in his shop was a bit surreal but it was soon replaced by a boiling rage; a boiling rage directed at Anthony. If he hadn't been there, Turpin would've sat in the barber chair and had the life drained out of him as the blood spewed from the would-be gash in his throat. He was standing there in silence for quite some time stewing in his own anger before Anthony called him out of his whirring thoughts.<p>

"Mr. Todd? Mr. Todd!"

"Out." Sweeney whispered, using all self-restraint so as to not strangle the incompetent young man.

"What?" Anthony ignorantly asked.

"OUT! GET OUT!" Sweeney's anger burst out of him and he was shouting, eyes wide and wild and swinging his arms like a mad man.

"But Mr. Todd-"

"OOOUUUTTTT!" he roared. Anthony, who had enough common sense to know when leave, turned on his heels and scrambled out the door leaving the bell ringing once more that night.

"Damn it! That boy has ruined everything!" screamed Sweeney as he knocked over his picture of Lucy and Johanna. Breathing rather hard, he went to retrieve it,

"Oh my loves," Sweeney whispered, "I'll get your revenge, don't you worry."

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><p>It had been two and a quarter hours since Anthony first positioned himself in the shadows of a nearby bush to follow Mr. Todd's directions and play policeman to watch for any indication of Turpin's most occupied room seeing as he already knew the location of Johanna's sleeping quarters. All he had seen so far was a couple of nighttime strollers; that very haunting beggar woman and a tipsy prostitute. He was unfocused at the moment as he dreamt of the moment he could tell his love that nothing was going to harm her anymore, not while he was around that is, when he saw a shadow flit across one of the windows and heard the muffled scream.<p>

The window..._Johanna's_ window! Why had she screamed? Was it Turpin? What was he doing to her? Anthony was about to jump from his hiding place and save his lady love when the front door burst open allowing the Judge and Beadle to be seen dragging a struggling Johanna into the carriage.

"Johanna!" Anthony pushed his way from his hiding place as the carriage took off with his dream girl and the men who were keeping her captive. He started running, chasing it through the streets, around corners and down alleyways. After a fifteen minute chase the carriage stopped in front of a large brick building with bars on the windows and faint whimpers echoing around the cobblestone street. There was a plaque on the right of the two stone pillars which stood on either side of the entrance that read FOGG'S ASYLUM.  
><em>An asylum, <em>that's_ where he's taking her, but why? I've got to tell Mr. Todd about this!_ Anthony thought.

"Hello boy." A voice sneered from behind. The sailor turned to find the one person he'd thought he had avoided. Before Anthony could do more than comprehend his current situation, Beadle raised his cane; the bauble on the top vacant of the blood Anthony knew to have existed at many points in time before it came down with a force that enveloped him in darkness.

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><p>At the ungodly hour of four thirty nine am, a note was shoved under the front door of the shop to be discovered when Mrs. Lovett arose at five fifteen am to begin her usual routine by a short, shadowy figure. It read,<p>

_Dear Mr. Sweeney Todd of Fleet Street. I shall call on you and your assistant in the early hours of the evening. Be prepared._

"What does this mean?" Mrs. Lovett asked Sweeney as soon as she found it on the floor in the middle of her pie shop, effectively waking the barber up from the little sleep he had managed to obtain that night.

"It's from Turpin." Sweeney said, "He's coming back tonight."

"This is it then." She replied, "Tonight's the night." Sweeney kissed the woman firmly then spoke,

"Tonight's the night. I must tell Edward he is needed in the shop all day today."

"Of course, good luck." Nellie replied as Sweeney walked to the doorway, pausing to give her one last message before he left,

"After I've killed Turpin and you've disposed of the body, we should celebrate." Nellie was quite confused by these words until she added in the way he had said the last couple words with a hint of lasting implication and suggestion and had a feeling that this was a night she was definitely looking forward to.

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><p><strong>Thanks to LeaJailbird and Laya14 for reviewing! :) Leave me a review with your thoughts positive or not!I just realized Edward hasn't been in the story, just mentions of him for the past few chapters and I'm sorry about that but I am pretty confident he will appear in the next one (and DEFINITELY the chapter after next!)<br>**

**Love you all! :)**

**P.S. Is anyone else excited for Dark Shadows? I certainly am!  
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	9. Observations and Escapes

**Hello! I hope you've all been well! Here's the newest installment of Sweeney's Opportunity!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sweeney Todd or Edward Scissorhands.  
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><p><strong>Chapter 9:<strong>** Observations and Escapes**

Thursday morning and afternoon's air was saturated in an anticipation that nearly choked all the unsuspecting customers who entered the shop that day. They seemed suspicious but were content to blame the atmosphere on Mrs. Lovett's _very _good mood; she was practically skipping around the shop. Sweeney on the other hand acted like he didn't have an odd tightening feeling in his stomach…excitement? Whatever it was he paid it no mind.

Edward also acted like nothing was going on; then again, he _didn't _know what tonight was going to bring. The only thing that could be seen as a little off-putting was the fact that he had been asked to work in the barber shop all day which different from his usual evening shifts that he had become accustom to. Toby was so absorbed in his little schemes to sneak bottles of gin without being caught and barely noticed anything that wasn't obvious so the atmospheric tension was lost on him. That didn't, however, mean Mr. Todd would get that much luck. His life after all, seemed to be a bit on the fictitious side and that meant Toby noticed something.

Toby noticed a lot of things; the random occasional thumps heard from the bake house as he passed the door which he would brush off as unstable lumps of meat falling off each other. As time wore on, he began to notice the random, unimportant thumps were getting more and more occasional when Mr. Todd was in a foul mood. Another strange thing was the empty haunted look in Mrs. Lovett's eyes when she would return from the bake house. It wasn't there long and was replaced by steel as she held her head up and carried on with her day; nevertheless, it had still been there. But most importantly, some of the men who ascended the stairs to the barber's lair never came back. After assembling these incidents as suspicious activities, he decided to have a little chat with his dear mum.

Upstairs was a slightly different story, however. The room was filled with anxiety more than anticipation. The customers had a strange inclination something might be amiss but quickly forgot it when they sensed the aura of confidence around Sweeney; fake confidence to put on a show for customers, but confidence nonetheless.

As the lunch rush faded and the shop was haunted by the time between tw0 and five which were the shop's witching hours seeing as only a couple handfuls of people managed to find their way in. This of course was Toby's chance to tell his mum about his feelings and suspicions toward Mr. Todd.

"Mum, can I speak to you for a moment?" Toby asked as one of the handfuls of people left the shop without any outliers hanging around.

"Of course Toby," she replied, "just meet me in the parlor; I'll be there in a minute."

"All right." he replied and made his way to the room she had mentioned and sat down on the floor, staring at the fireplace not unlike Mr. T while trying to decide the best way to approach this touchy subject with her. Barely five minutes had passed as Mrs. Lovett entered the parlor having (or rather hoping she _didn't_) no idea what her boy wanted to discuss with her.

"What do you want to talk to me about, dearie?" She asked with a bright smile. Toby mustered up all the courage his fragile frame could handle and said,

"It's about Mr. T."

"Oh? What about 'im?" she asked cheerily; quite the opposite of how she felt, however, considering the nervous look on Toby's face, what he was about to tell her was not good.

"Well…" He replied, looking around the room nervously.

"C'mon, I don't bite." Her voice wavered slightly at the end but the boy was too nervous to notice.

"Well…erm…" his eye movement became more rapid by the second."

"Toby…" Mrs. L said, trying to get whatever it was he wanted to say out of him.

"Well-it's just-.T." he said hurriedly and eyes finally resting on the floor.

"Love, slow down," Mrs. Lovett said soothingly and tilted his head up to look at her, "now tell me what it is you wanted to say."

"Mr.T, there is something with him." Nellie closed her eyes and shook her head and said exasperatedly,

"We 'ave been over this."

"I'm serious! There really is something wrong with him!" Toby insisted.

"Toby, I don't 'ave time for this," she told him sternly, "Mr.T's been so good to us. How could you even think of such a thing?" She stood up and turned her back to him, about to take a step away from the boy who almost knew too much for his own good when she heard the words that would seal his fate.

"But I have proof!" She froze. _Proof? How could he have proof? It's not like he's allowed in the bake house so he couldn't have seen anything. Maybe it's just him being his ever emotional self and all the proof is in his head. _She turned around and pasted on the best shocked face.

"Proof? Proof of what?"

"That there is something wrong with him!"

"You can't have proof for something that isn't true, dear."

"But it is!" he insisted, "Just please hear me out." Nellie hesitated.

"Please?"

"If it will make you happy." Mrs. Lovett gave in and decided to hear her boy out. She returned to her spot on the settee and patted her knee just as Sweeney had a mere twenty four hours prior. "C'mon, love. If you're going to tell me silly theories than we might as well be comfortable." Toby walked over to his mum with a slight frown and furrowing of his brows. Once they were settled in, he jumped right into it.

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><p>"Mr. Todd, Mr. Todd!" Nellie said frantically as she entered the shop. She was about to start spewing her concerns about Toby when she spotted Edward and changed the direction of her attention to him.<p>

"'Ello Edward, dear. Just the person I was looking for." Her blatant lie and change in attitude either went unnoticed or was ignored by Edward.

"Hello. You were looking for me?" He asked in his usual innocent tone. The time that that sweet tone of his could last was running out and Nellie had no idea how to stop it, regretting what he'll soon find out and what she might have to do.  
>"Yes, dear. I was wondering if you could help Toby in the shop right now." she smiled, knowing full well that was not the reason she wanted him to leave.<p>

"Mr. Todd told me to stay up here with him." Edward said, not wanting to upset the barber.

"It' not a problem Edward, there isn't anyone here." Sweeney assured him.

"Well if it's ok…" Edward mumbled.

"Go help Toby downstairs, Edward." Sweeney said again, this time the young man listened to him.

"By Mr. Todd, by Mrs. Lovett." Edward waved and padded out of the still open door.

As soon as Edward's hair disappeared around the corner Sweeney spoke with worry.

"What is it pet? What's the matter?"

"Toby." She said "He knows."

"Knows what?"

"Everything!" She burst into near hysterics, "He knows about the shop and the pies and me and you and oh Sweeney, what do we do?" Sweeney knew this would happen as soon as she brought that boy home.

"You know what we have to do Nellie, what we've always had to do from the moment you brought him in." He told her gently, "He needs to go, and you need to make him leave." She knew he wasn't taking about leaving. Death. Death and murder was what secretly passed his lips only to be picks up by those who knew him best, or as best as anyone really could.

"You mean..."she trailed off holding onto a last bit of hope that she was delusional and wasn't asking this of her.

"I'm afraid so pet. It is not safe for him anymore now that he knows the truth."

"Well he doesn't know specifics."

"What do you mean he doesn't know the specifics?"

"He just...feels that there is something off about you. He speculates-"

"Speculates." He spat, "Speculation is enough to get you an unfair trial and a sentence in this town, it's like a 15th century witch hunt."

"It doesn't have to be. We can still get rid of the judge tonight, he doesn't get to live another day because Toby has a bad feeling about you."

"But the boy does have to go, you know that Nellie." Reminding her of the fate sealed envelope that held Toby's life, reminding her that she was the fate that had sealed the envelope.

"But that's just it, he doesn't! We could run away, far away, to the sea and be a family and be happy! No more murder, no more misery, just us and the waves and the sand." She tried to reason.

He looked at her with pity in his eyes,

"You know that can never happen Nellie, not now and not ever; he has to go."

"I just love the boy; I'd hate to do that to him." Tears glistened in her eyes. Sweeney lifted her head up with his index finger,

"Nellie, if you really love the boy do you want him to leave with his sanity or see him live with the mind twisting knowledge of what we've become?"  
>She thought about it for what seemed like a lifetime before she finally spoke, sounding defeated but defiant.<p>

"No." The decision broke her heart more than she would let herself admit until the opportune moment, the moment to kill. By the time she had to do what was necessary the idea and feelings would have brewed in her subconscious long enough to make herself numb. She had to be numb, otherwise there would be no steeling of the eyes, no final tear and no whispered apology at the end of it; it could never happen if she wasn't numb.

"What about Edward?" Sweeney asked the quietly distraught woman, "Does he know anything about this?"

"Edward? I doubt it dear; the silly thing goes along with whatever we say without question, you know that." Nellie laughed without humor.

"The boy could've told him his suspicions and taken them and their conspiracy at face value." he reasoned.

"No, Edward would never believe such a thing; he's much too innocent to even think of such things!"

"So just the boy, then?" Sweeney's question was void of emotion; Mrs. Lovett replied hollowly,

"Yes…just Toby."

* * *

><p>Anthony awoke groggily, head pounding and body aching. Sitting up slowly as to not aggravate any of his possibly serious injuries, memories flooded back; the grogginess dissipating as adrenaline took its place: Judge Turpin's mansion, the carriage, Johanna, Fogg's asylum, Beadle and the cloud of darkness that engulfed his senses.<p>

He surveyed his surroundings; taking in the bookshelves lining the walls and the thick Persian rug beneath him. They looked familiar and gave him the vibe that this room had negative feelings associated with it. Then he remembered: this was the room Turpin had threatened him in; he was in Judge Turpin's house. Taking an inventory of his injuries and confirming that none of them were life threatening, Anthony strained his ears for any signs of life. Sensing none, he crept to the door and opened it a crack, just enough for Turpin's hand to snake its way to the door's side and clutch it tightly enough to turn his already pale knuckles a shade whiter. He pulled the door open slowly,

"Going somewhere?" Turpin asked in his slow, dangerous drawl.

"N-n-" Anthony stuttered; fear clamping his throat shut.

"No, I thought not." He replied then called over his shoulder, "Beadle, the rope please." In an instant the greasy lackey appeared with a thick nine foot rope and handed it to his slimy employer; Anthony was horrified.

"Looks like you're being a bit too difficult, but don't worry; we have just the thing for that." Turpin said and threw the rope over Anthony's head and pulled it when it was level with his chest, pulling him back. His back collided with Turpin's chest and before he could twitch a finger, his wrists had been tied together. Anthony threw back his head and it made a satisfying crunch as it found cartilage.

"You insolent boy!" Turpin hissed, blood dripping into Anthony's hair, "Johanna is mine. She doesn't want you. Leave her be!" Anthony struggled, trying to twist his way out of the Judge's grasp but only caused the rope to bite into his skin even more.

Despite his struggles, the Judge managed to pin him to the wall.

"Now be a good little sailor and stay put," Turpin spat, throwing Anthony to the ground. Wiping his hands on his leather manteau to rid them of the sailor's grime, Turpin turned and walked out with a simple "Come, Beadle," before the door was shut and locked.

"Ugh," Anthony groaned and brought himself to his feet. The room looked the same as it had when Turpin first told him to stay away from Johanna, with its musty bookshelves towering over him and elegant furnishings scattered about, it was an intimidating room to be trapped in.

_First thing's first, I need to get out of these ropes. _Anthony thought. He scanned the room looking for anything that could tear through the tough fibers of rope; a knife, a sharp table corner, anything. A walk around the room revealed nothing sharper than the corners on a pillow.

Anthony stopped walking and sighed,

_If I never get out of here, who knows what Turpin will do to me…or what will happen to Johanna._

Out of anger and frustration at his current situation, he kicked the object nearest to him, which happened to be a mahogany end table. It flipped backwards and landed a couple feet away on its top, causing the small draw to slide open and spill the contents to the floor. Breathing deeply so as to try to calm himself, Anthony went to turn the table right side up when a silvery glint from the floor caught his eye; it was a long, silver letter opener.

Crouching two steps in front of the blade so his tied hands could reach, Anthony found the handle and carefully picked it up from the ground so as to not slice himself with the blade.

_Of course, _he thought, _even the monster's letter opener is lethal. _

"Got it!" he exclaimed and straightened back into a standing position, "Now to get out of these ropes."

With an upward turn of his wrist, Anthony started cutting away at the thick brown twine.

After a couple minutes and several gashes, Anthony managed to free his now-raw wrists from the constricting cord.

"Thank God," he sighed and slipped the weapon in his sleeve for safe keeping. _Never know when you're going to need a weapon, and being kidnapped raised the suspicion I might need one._

But how to get out of this room…" He looked around the room again and spotted an exit opportunity.

There were two large windows present where the line of monstrous bookshelves ended that were covered by thick, red velvet curtains clutching ornate iron rods. He moved the heavy fabric aside and peered out of the hand-blown glass panes to be greeted with black bars.

"Damn!" Anthony cursed, and let the drape fall back into place. He needed a way out and the prison-like bars on the windows reminded him just what could happen to him if he didn't. Anthony moved from the window and towards the door, focusing on the lock.

_If I could pick that lock, all I would have to do is sneak back out of this place and find Johanna. _

Anthony searched his pockets; first the right then the left and finally his inside jacket pocket. The two slim metal tools felt cool to his touch and reassured him his-and Johanna's-dreams were going to come true soon. _Thank God I always carry my lock picking tools with me. _

He positioned the tools in the lock and fidgeted them for a moment before the lock clicked.

"I've still got it," Anthony muttered and opened the door a crack, checking for anyone that could be around, even if they aren't Turpin or Beadle.

There seemed to be a limited amount of staff as Anthony ducked through halls and doorways and Turpin was nowhere to be found.

_They must not kidnap people often or they would have rightly made someone watch me. _

After a few minutes of wandering, Anthony could see the heavy front door until something stepped over to block his view.

"Hello, boy," Beadle greeted in his horrible, nasally voice, "leaving are you?"

"Actually I am; so if you could just step aside, I'd be happy to leave your presence," Anthony replied with as much bravery as someone could who had just run into one of his captors.

"I'm afraid I can't let that happen…" Beadle took one step forward and raised his walking stick over his head but Anthony was quicker and let the letter opener drop into his right hand from his sleeve and stabbed him in the stomach.

"Ahh!" Beadle cried and looked down in shock at the letter opener protruding from his soft flesh.

Anthony pushed the bleeding man out of the way and bolted for the door. Grabbing the knob and pulling the door with all his might, it didn't budge. The door was locked, but Beadle was still on the floor in pain, which gave Anthony a small window of time to unlock the door.

He pulled out his tools and began working on the lock, which was clearly more sophisticated than the one on the drawing room door.

"I'll get you, boy," Beadle threatened through gritted teeth as he started to turn over onto his hands and knees.

"There's no way in Hell I'll let you keep me here."

The lock was close to clicking when he noticed Beadle crawling towards him, agonizingly slow, on his hands and knees.

"The only escape is death, and even that isn't a guarantee," Beadle said forcefully.

Anthony knew his window was closing as Beadle got closer, his gloved hand outstretched inches away from his right ankle. He was _so _close to being free; if only his nerves would quiet and stop his hands from shaking he could unlock the prison gates.

"I'd rather be dead than stay here and rot," Anthony spat. _Just a bit more time._

"Trust me boy, Judge Turpin won't keep you in this world long enough to rot, I can assure you of that," Blood was beginning to trickle down the side of Beadle's mouth, his breathing becoming shallower and his voice getting fainter with each word.

"And I assure you that I won't be around to find out," Anthony said with confidence as the lock clicked and he pulled the door open.

The run from Turpin's to Fogg's Asylum was a blur of streets, roads, buildings and horrible flashbacks to that drawing room. Anthony caught his breath outside the mental hospital (if you could call it a hospital at all) and cleared his mind of everything but what need to be done.

_Johanna, I'm coming for you._

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><p><strong>I hoped you all enjoyed this chapter and as usual, if you see any errors or have any questions feel free to PM me about them! There is only one more chapter left to this story and thank you to all of you who have stuck by me from the beginning!<strong>_  
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**Please review my lovelies! :)  
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